


My Heart Is Yours

by bilesandthesourwolf (snb123)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: College AU, First Time, Hand Job, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snb123/pseuds/bilesandthesourwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look, Minho,” Thomas sighed (and God, why did his voice have to sound so sexy saying his name?). “It's not that difficult. You're making everything harder than it has to be.”</p><p>“I'll tell you what you're making harder,” Minho grumbled into the table, not expecting Thomas to hear him. </p><p>But the other boy chuckled, a low sound that went straight to Minho's groin. He whipped his head up to find Thomas smirking at him and God he was so done for.</p><p> </p><p>Or that one in which Minho is failing a class and Thomas is his super distracting tutor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart Is Yours

 

Minho was screwed. So very screwed. He was failing his class and they were already halfway through the semester so he couldn’t transfer out of it. There was no way he was going to pass. He was going to fail. He was going to lose his scholarship. He was going to get kicked out of UCLA. And he was panicking.

“Dude, calm down,” said one of Minho's best friends, Newt. “You're getting all worked up over nothing.”

“I don't think you understand, Isaac,” Minho's voice was raising in pitch and volume but he didn't even care. “I'm done for! I'm gonna have to leave. I'm never gonna be a pro football player. My life is – ow!”

“Slim it,” Alby, Minho's other best friend said, retracting his fist from Minho's arm. “You're giving me a headache.”

“Sorry,” Minho grumbled, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. “I can't help it. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I have no idea what my adviser was thinking, making me sign up for this class.”

When he'd met with his adviser to sign up for his spring semester junior classes, he'd been talked into signing up for Introduction to Electrical Engineering and Computer Science as an elective credit. He'd been skeptical, computers weren't really his thing. But his adviser had been persuasive. “It'll be good for you to challenge yourself, Minho. Plus, you get to build robots.”

The robots had sounded cool. And his academic load had been fairly simple so far. The football season was over, so he only had conditioning 3 times a week. He'd decided to give it a try.

But now Minho was regretting every decision that had led him to this point in his life. He was at UCLA on a football scholarship with the stipulation that he pass every class. And now here he was, failing his first class ever and completely freaking out about it.

With a groan, Minho thumped his head against their lunch table and mumbled, “What am I gonna do?”

Alby and Newt shared exasperated looks before Newt said, “Look. Just talk to your professor. Maybe she can recommend a tutor or something.”

Minho perked up at the suggestion. “Do you really think that'll work? Why didn't I think of that?”

“Because you've taken one too many hits to the head, dumbass,” Alby deadpanned.

Newt snorted and elbowed Alby in the side as Minho glared at them. “I hate you both so much.”

“No, you don't,” Newt replied with a cheeky grin. “You'd be lost without us.”

Minho tried to hide his grin as he got up from the table. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. I'm gonna head over to Professor Paige's office. I'll catch you guys later.” He shouldered his backpack and turned to leave.

“Good luck, slinthead,” Alby shouted as Newt snickered.

Minho flipped them off over his shoulder without turning around.

~

Ava Paige was a reasonable woman and she was more than willing to help Minho.

“The robots just sounded like so much fun,” Minho said, trailing off on his rant about being coerced into taking the class and his plea for help.

Professor Paige chuckled good-naturedly. “You're a smart boy, Minho, I can tell. I'm just not sure this class was right for you.” Minho nodded in agreement. “But don't worry. It's not too late to salvage your grade.”

Minho smiled, feeling a heavy weight lift from his shoulders. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Professor Paige grinned. “I'm going to set you up with a tutor. His name is Thomas.” She reached for a pad of paper and started writing. “He's a junior, too, and an Engineering major. He took this class his freshman year. If anyone can help you pass this class, it's Thomas.” She passed him the slip of paper that had Thomas's name and a phone number. “He prefers to text.”

“Thanks,” Minho said as he grabbed the paper. He stood up, ready to leave, when Professor Paige said, “You're welcome,” with a wink.

Slightly thrown by the wink, Minho silently left the office.

~

Minho tried to be as friendly as possible in his texts to Thomas but the other boy was perfunctory and straight to the point. They agreed to meet the following afternoon in the Library at 3pm. Minho was more than a little apprehensive.

~

Minho was screwed. So very screwed.

He'd been expecting Thomas to be some scrawny, geeky, awkward looking guy with glasses and an old school pocket protector.

What he got was 5 feet, 11 inches of pure gorgeous. The guy was wearing jeans and a rather tight t-shirt that did little to hide his lean, muscular frame. His brown hair was unkempt and sticking up in several different directions, as though he'd recently been running his hands through it (or participating in activities of a sexual nature, Minho's mind unhelpfully supplied) and his eyes were like liquid gold. He was leaning casually against a table, hip cocked to the side and arms crossed against his chest. Minho kind of wanted to lick his biceps.

He was seriously fucked.

~

Thomas tried to suppress the smirk that was threatening to take over his entire face.

When Professor Paige had mentioned that one of her Intro to Electrical Engineering students was probably going to need a tutor and asked if he'd be interested, Thomas had wanted to say no. He was busy working on his degree and didn’t want to bother with some freshman that was in over his head. But when Paige had told him who the student was, Thomas practically jumped on the opportunity.

Pretty much everyone at UCLA knew who Minho was. He was the Bruins's star wide receiver and had been since he was a sophomore. No one doubted that he'd go pro, it was only a matter of time.

Thomas had always loved football. He liked watching the sport and playing the occasional pick-up game. But he much preferred analyzing the plays and seeing them executed on the field. He'd been to every Bruins game that he could make it to. Thomas would never forget the first game he'd been to as a freshman; watching the players and predicting their moves had been thrilling. But what had really caught his attention was the new freshman wide receiver with the number 1 on his jersey. The player had been all graceful movements and flowing lines. He was clearly a natural. It was like watching poetry in motion and Thomas was hooked.

He later learned the player was named Minho and Thomas had begun following his career. He looked the boys' profile up on the school's website and knew he was in trouble when he finally saw what Minho looked like. The boy was extremely good looking, smiling wide for the camera, eyes crinkled up, black hair gelled into careful spikes. Thomas was a goner.

He never had the chance to meet Minho; they ran in completely different circles. But he'd seen the other boy on several occasions around campus – on the quad, in the library – but he'd never had the guts to go and introduce himself. Minho was even better looking in person, his smile captivating and his laugh enchanting.

So Thomas continued watching from afar, going to the games and tracking Minho's stats. And he'd been content that way, until Paige had said he might need a tutor and he was perfect for the job.

When he'd first received Minho's text, he'd been with his best friends Teresa, Aris, and Brenda. His face had lit up and all of them immediately began laughing, knowing about his long standing “crush” and how excited he was. Thomas had texted back short, clipped answers, feeling self-conscious and not wanting to come off as too eager.

Thomas had arrived earlier than necessary, wanting to make sure he had some books and notes ready for when Minho got there.

The other boy had shown up right at 3 and it had taken all of Thomas's will power not to grin like an idiot. He'd expected Minho to come right over, wanting to get started right away.

What he hadn’t expected was for the other boy to stand there, staring at him, for what felt like hours. Objectively, Thomas knew he was fairly good looking and in pretty decent shape. He liked to go running and did some weight lifting. But he never really gave it that much thought. That is, until Minho looked at him like maybe he was something he could eat.

So, Thomas crossed his arms, watching Minho's eyes as they tracked the movement, watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He felt like gloating to someone, anyone, that he was having this effect on one of the school's biggest football stars.

Instead, he settled for a small smirk, while flexing his arms a tiny bit and cocking his hip out a little more. He almost laughed as Minho's cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

He finally took pity on the poor guy and cleared his throat. Minho's head jerked a little and his eyes flitted up to focus on Thomas's face.

“Uh,” he said, Adam's apple bobbing several times. “You must be Thomas.”

It came out as more of a question than a statement and Thomas smiled a little bigger before pushing off the table with his hip and moving towards the other boy.

“And you must be Minho,” Thomas replied as he reached out a hand.

Minho stepped forward and took his hand in a grip that was almost too tight. “Yeah, yes. That's me.” He punctuated each word with an exaggerated pump of his hand.

Thomas tried not to laugh as he gently pulled his hand out of Minho's tight grip. “Well, Minho,” he said with a smile. “Let's get started.”

~

Minho didn’t know how he made it though that first session with Thomas without making a bigger idiot of himself than he already had, but somehow he managed to make it through the hour. He couldn't remember anything Thomas had talked about, to distracted by the boy's pink, cupid bow lips and sparkling amber eyes. He'd snapped to attention long enough to agree to meet Thomas again in a few days and then to watch the boy's perfect ass as he walked away.

He was well and truly fucked.

Newt and Alby had nearly pissed themselves laughing when Minho had told them what had happened that night at dinner.

“I can't believe how much you suck at life, Minho,” Newt rasped as he wiped tears from his eyes.

“I hate you,” Minho grumbled without much heat. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see this guy.”

“Tell us again what his eyes looked like,” Alby said, laughter coloring his words.

“Like liquid gold,” Minho sighed, dreamy expression coming over his face. Alby and Newt broke into fresh peels of laughter as Minho's cheeks turned an impressive shade of red.

“You guys aren’t helping,” Minho tried talking over his laughing friends. “How am I supposed to focus on Thomas's tutoring when all I want to do is stick my tongue down his throat?”

“Ugh! Too much info, dude,” Newt finally sobered up enough to say.

“You deserved it for laughing so much,” Minho replied. “Now, tell me how to fix this.”

“I seriously have no idea how you survive without us,” Alby sighed. “You just need to focus. Think about football and how much you want this. Think about what'll happen if you fail.”

Minho groaned. “Thomas is just so cute though.”

“Remember Minho,” Newt said, all fake seriousness. “No man is worth the loss of your dreams.”

There was a moment of silence before they all burst into laughter.

~

“How was your date?” Teresa asked later that night at the Starbucks on campus.

“For the last time, it wasn’t a date,” Thomas sighed.

“No,” Aris chimed in. “It wasn’t a date, it was a wish finally being fulfilled.”

“Ugh! I'm just tutoring him!”

“Oh, that's right” Brenda added. “It was a tutoring session in love and stalker-ish behavior.”

“You guys suck. I have no idea why I'm friends with you,” Thomas groaned.

“Because you love us,” Teresa said with a beatific smile. “But seriously, what was he like?”

Thomas sighed and tried not to smile to wide. “He's so much better looking up close and in person. Pictures really don't do him any justice.” Aris made a gagging noise and Brenda kicked him under the table. “And I think maybe he's into me?”

Teresa slowly put her coffee down and Brenda sat up straighter while saying, “What do you mean, you think maybe he's into you? Explain, now, and in great detail.”

“Well, when he first showed up, he stared at me for a good minute and I swear his eyes did a once-over,” Thomas said with a grin.

“Let me guess,” Teresa said. “You were doing that whole 'arms crossed, leaning against the table' thing?”

“Maybe,” Thomas replied, smirking slightly as the others laughed.

“Anything else?” Brenda asked.

“Yeah. He blushed while shaking my hand, unnecessarily hard, I might add. He stuttered whenever he spoke. And I swear to God, he didn’t hear a single word I had to say about the class.”

Teresa and Brenda shared a look, like they were having a silent conversation. Thomas and Aris looked on in awe as they usually did when the girls did this. Finally it seemed as though some kind of conclusion had been made when the girls turned to face them. Brenda smiled, a slightly evil expression in Thomas's opinion, as Teresa said, “Yeah, he likes you.”

Thomas felt his stomach flutter. “You think so?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Definitely.”

Thomas's face broke into a huge smile. “Don't be disgustingly cute about it,” Brenda laughed.

“So what are you going to do?” Aris asked.

“I actually have no idea,” Thomas replied. “I'm supposed to be tutoring him, not flirting with him. He could lose his scholarship if he fails this class.”

“Well, figure out how to get him to pass and then make your move,” Teresa supplied.

“Easier said than done,” Thomas replied.

~

That Friday, Minho showed up at the library determined to focus on Engineering and not Anatomy. He flopped down in a chair at the table Thomas was already occupying without looking at the other boy. He pulled his book and notebook from his backpack, placed them on the table, and finally looked at Thomas. He tried to keep his mind out of the gutter as he said, “Alright, let's do this.”

An hour later Minho thumped his head against the table. He wanted to scream. He’d been able to focus on what Thomas was saying instead of how inviting his mouth looked, but he was still having trouble grasping what was being said.

“Look, Minho,” Thomas sighed (and God, why did his voice have to sound so sexy saying his name?). “It's not that difficult. You're making everything harder than it has to be.”

“I'll tell you what you're making harder,” Minho grumbled into the table, not expecting Thomas to hear him.

But the other boy chuckled, a low sound that went straight to Minho's groin. He whipped his head up to find Thomas smirking at him and God he was so done for.

They stared at each other for several moments, Thomas smirking and Minho wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Finally Minho cleared his throat and said, “Can we just pretend like you didn’t hear that?”

Thomas's smirk grew infinitesimally bigger before he replied, “Sure, Minho. I'll pretend I didn't hear it.” Minho sighed with relief until Thomas added, “But don’t think for one second that I'm going to forget it.” And then he winked and Minho kind of wanted to die.

~

After their second meeting, things got a little bit easier, especially given they both knew their attraction was mutual, even though they knew there was nothing they could do about it.

They met 3 or 4 times a week for the next month, depending on what their schedules allowed. They mostly focused on the class and getting Minho to pass. But sometimes they would stay a bit later and just chat. Minho talked about football and how much he loved playing. Thomas listened with rapt attention, completely enthralled by the passion on Minho's face as he talked about something he loved so much.

When Thomas mentioned that he liked to play football too, Minho invited him to join him and his friends in their occasional pick-up games. Thomas had smiled and said maybe he'd take him up on the offer after finals in May.

At the mention of their upcoming finals, Minho had sobered up and tried to put football and Thomas's smile from his mind.

By the beginning of April, Minho was feeling more confident about passing the class. He knew he and Thomas were friends now, but their meetings always had an underlying tension that was getting harder to ignore. Minho couldn’t wait for finals to be over.

~

“This is some kind of new, hellish torture,” Thomas groaned as he sat down next to Brenda for lunch.

“I swear to God, Thomas,” Brenda sighed. “I love you to death, but if I have to listen to you whine about Minho one more time, I'm going to stab you in the eye with this fork.”

“But, Brenda! You don't understand,” Thomas started.

But she cut him off before he could really get going. “Oh, I understand. He's gorgeous and dreamy and funny and all you want to do is jump his bones and you know he wants to jump yours too but you can't do anything because he needs to pass and it's just killing you inside,” she said in one truly impressive breath. “That about sum it up?”

“Yes,” Thomas mumbled dejectedly. “But it's more than that now. I know him as a person. He's smart and funny and passionate. He's not just some unattainable guy I didn't really know anything about and that I've been crushing on from afar. He's real and tangible and right in front of me.”

“Look,” Brenda said, reaching out to pat his arm. “You've got a little over a month left and you’ve made it this far. I have full confidence in your ability to keep it in your pants for a little while longer.”

Thomas threw his head back and laughed. “You're the best.”

“I know,” Brenda replied with a grin.

“Just five more weeks,” Thomas said under his breath. “Five more weeks.”

~

“I'm 110% sure my balls are gonna fall off. I will be ball-less. My life will be over,” Minho sighed dramatically while flopping on Newt's outstretched legs.

“Gross,” Newt complained while trying to free his pinned legs. “I never want to hear about your balls again. Not ever.”

“You're the worst best friend ever,” Minho whined, wiggling around on Newt's legs some more.

“I do try,” the bastard said with a playful grin. “Seriously though. Why don’t you just make a move already? I have no idea why you’re waiting. Didn’t you say he was into you?”

“Yes,” Minho answered, finally sitting up. “He is. We established that during our second meeting.”

“That was over a month ago!” Newt practically yelled. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

“I can't get involved with Thomas like that, not right now. Not yet. If I do, there's no way I'll be able to focus on passing any of my classes, let alone Intro to Engineering. You know how shitty my self control is.”

Newt looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “You really like him, don't you? It's not just about attraction anymore.”

Minho's cheeks turned a dusty pink as he nodded in affirmation. “You could say we're friends now. And that's cool. He's a great guy, smart and funny. He's got this ridiculous sarcastic streak that makes me want to smack him sometimes, but then he smiles and I just kind of want to melt. I could stay just friends but I want more. At first I thought it was just lust, you know, purely physical. But I actually want to be with him.” Minho turned his face away in embarrassment after his confession.

Newt smiled and reached out to ruffle his best friend's hair. “Look at you, all grown up with grown up feelings. I'm so proud.”

Minho chuckled and tried to swat Newt's hand away. Newt tweaked another lock of hair before saying, “Look how far you've made it. Just one month left. I'm sure you can manage one more month.”

“You're right, as usual,” Minho sighed. “It's just so hard when all I want to do is pin him to the table and -”

Newt stuck his fingers in his ears and started humming, causing Minho to break out laughing once more.

~

When Minho came to their next meeting, he was grinning from ear to ear. Thomas had to fight the urge to get up and kiss the smile off the other boy's face. He settled for grinning back instead. “What's got you so happy today?”

Minho threw himself in the chair across from him and pulled something from his backpack. “Check that out,” he said as he slapped a packet of papers down in front of Thomas.

It was Minho's latest test. There was a “C+” written at the top in red pen with a smiley face. Thomas looked up to find Minho smiling at him, pride in his eyes. Thomas felt his own smile grow. “This is good, Minho. Much better than your last test. You're really starting to get this. You're the most improved football player I've ever tutored,” his voice took on a teasing tone on his last sentence.

Minho's face darkened slightly as he said, “You've tutored other football players?”

Thomas threw his head back and laughed. Sometimes it was too easy to tease Minho. He quieted after a moment, sobering up at the rather thunderous expression on the other boy's face. “No, Minho,” Thomas answered voice soft and quiet, intimate. “I've never tutored anyone before. It's only ever been you.”

Minho's face changed immediately, scowl replaced by the brightest smile he'd ever seen and Thomas hated himself for what he had to say next. “But it's not going to be enough. With your currant grade, you need to get at least a B+ on the final to pass the class.”

The smile slide off Minho's face so quickly it was painful to watch. He folded his arms on the table then buried his face with a defeated sigh.

Thomas wanted to get up and hug the other boy but instead he reached across the table and gently placed his hand on Minho's hand. Some of the tension drained out of him at his touch, which prompted Thomas to experimentally rub his thumb lightly against Minho's wrist.

Minho shuddered and sighed again, but it sounded anything but defeated. “If you keep that up,” he said, voice low and husky, “we're gonna have problems.”

Thomas chuckled softly, continued stroking Minho's wrist, and said, “It's going to be alright. You're going to pass, I promise.”

He gave Minho's wrist a few more taps with his thumb before he withdrew his hand. Thomas leaned back in his chair as Minho lifted his head and propped his chin on his folded arms. He looked up at Thomas through his lashes, pupils slightly blown, and smiled softly. Thomas wanted to groan, the picture Minho presented was entirely too tempting.

Minho must have been having similar thoughts because he sighed once more before saying, “God, I can't wait for finals to be over.” He looked at Thomas, eyes roaming over his face, before settling on his mouth. Minho's tongue darted out to moisten his lips, pupils going darker as he did so.

Thomas finally did let out a soft groan at Minho's actions. He felt his face heat up as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Just a few more weeks, Minho. We need to get you to pass. And then we can...”, he trailed off, not wanting to let his mind wander too much.

Minho let out a loud breath as he sat up straight, rubbing a hand over his face. “Right. Finals. Where do we start?”

~

With finals less than a month away, they decided it was best to meet up 4 afternoons a week. Minho was improving, but Thomas was worried that it wasn't going to be enough. The other boy seemed more and more distracted the closer they got to finals. Thomas knew he was worried about passing the class, but he liked to think that Minho was maybe a little distracted by Thomas himself.

They were a week away from finals when Thomas decided he needed to take slightly drastic measures. When he called Minho on the Saturday night before Monday's final and suggested they meet at Thomas's apartment on Sunday night for their last study session, the other boy was more than a little surprised. They had always meet at the library, a nice, neutral, public place. But he agreed to be at Thomas's place at 6 the next night.

Thomas hung up with a smile. He just needed to figure out how to get his friends to leave for a few hours.

~

Minho nervously played with the strap on his backpack while standing outside Thomas's apartment. They'd never meet outside the library, and for good reason. He was sure that if he was ever alone with Thomas, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from just reaching out and kissing the other boy, like he'd wanted to for the last several months. And now here he was, outside Thomas's door, psyching himself up to ring the bell like a kid in middle school with his first crush.

He'd been surprised when Thomas had suggested meeting at his place the night before his final. It was like breaking some kind of unspoken rule. But, Minho figured Thomas had to have a good reason. Maybe he thought the library would be crowded the night before finals week. Whatever the reason, Minho was still nervous about being alone with Thomas.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Minho reached out and rang the bell. The door opened almost immediately, almost like Thomas had been waiting on the other side. Judging by the smirk on his face, Minho didn't think his assessment was wrong.

“I was wondering if you were going to spend all night out here,” Thomas teased, leaning against the door frame. He was wearing more layers than usual, which was strange given how warm the evening was. His face was slightly pink, probably from the sweatshirt he had on.

“I was just making sure I had the right place,” Minho said, knowing Thomas would see right through the lie.

“Whatever you say,” the other boy said with a wink before stepping back into the apartment and holding the door open. “Come on in.”

Minho stepped inside, turning slightly to avoid brushing against Thomas. He looked around curiously for a moment as he heard the door shut behind him. “Nice place,” he said conversationally, trying to calm his nerves.

“Thanks,” Thomas replied, walking past him and towards a hallway. “Bedroom's this way.”

Minho felt his heart skip a beat as he managed to croak out a “Huh?”

“We're gonna study in my room.”

“Oh, uh,” Minho cleared his throat and followed Thomas down the hall. “Cool. You're roommates want to study in the living room?”  
“My roommates are all out with their own study groups. It's just us,” Thomas answered, looking over his shoulder with a smirk.

Minho almost tripped over his own feet. “Right, awesome,” he said weakly as he regained his balance.

Thomas finally opened the last door on the left of the hallway and waited for Minho to pass through once more. The room was decent sized with a bed, nightstand, desk, and dresser. There was clutter around, typical of a student who didn’t have time to tidy up all the time. While Minho was nervously looked around, Thomas had closed the door and situated himself on the bed, leaning back on his hands. It was an inviting picture.

“Have a seat,” Thomas said, smile just a little too innocent to put Minho at ease.

He eyed the space next to Thomas on the bed for a moment before pulling out the desk chair, turning it to face the bed, then sitting down. He dropped his backpack on the floor before whipping his sweaty palms on his thighs.

“Here's the deal, Minho,” Thomas began, leaning forward and bracing his arms on his knees, hands clasped. “You know this material. You know that you know it. I know that you know. Hell, even Professor Paige knows you know it.” Minho couldn't help but chuckle at that. He was rewarded with a bright smile from Thomas. “You're problem is that you're nervous. You're worried about failing and loosing your scholarship. But that's not going to happen, alright?” Minho felt himself nodding in agreement even though he was still skeptical.

“Look,” Thomas said, reaching behind himself and picking something up off the bed. It was a small stack of papers. “This is the final. I know for a fact Paige gives the same one out every semester. There's 50 questions, which means you need to get 45 of those questions right in order to pass the class.”

“Fuck,” Minho said softly, worry creeping up his spine. “There's now way that's happening.”

“Yes, Minho,” Thomas's voice was full of conviction. “It's going to happen. I asked you to study here tonight cause I thought we could make a game out of this.”

Minho perked up a bit, intrigued. “What kind of game?”

The other boy smiled, eyes gleaming. “For every 10 questions you answer correctly, I'll give you a small prize. If you can answer every question right, which I know you're capable of, you'll get the grand prize.”

“Ok,” Minho said. “I'm game. Any clue as to what the prizes are?”

Thomas pulled his legs up onto the bed and crossed them before replying, “Answer the first 10 questions right and you'll find out.”

Thomas started asking questions and Minho was sure he was starting with the easiest ones because before he knew it, he'd answered the first 10 questions correctly.

“Great job, Minho,” Thomas said, smiling wide as he put the test down next to him. “I knew you could do this.”

“Yeah, but you started with the easiest ones,” Minho responded, trying not to get to excited about the prospect of actually passing this exam.

Thomas hummed noncommittally as he reached for the hem of his sweatshirt and pulled it up and over his head. It left his hair in disarray and Minho wanted nothing more than to reach out and stroke it back into place. The other boy turned and tossed the sweater in a random corner before turning back to stare at him. Minho gulped as Thomas smiled at him. “It was getting a bit warm in here.”

“You're wearing a flannel,” Minho pointed out, not sure why Thomas hadn’t removed that as well, seeing as his cheeks were pinker now then they had been 20 minutes ago. Surely that was making him hot as well.

“And so I am,” Thomas replied before picking the test back up and resuming the questioning.

To Minho's great surprise, he got the next 10 questions right as well.

“Sheer, dumb luck,” he said in answer to Thomas's smug grin.

“I told you,” Thomas said as he began unbuttoning the flannel he was wearing. “You know this stuff. You're just nervous.”

“Right, nervous,” Minho agreed, distracted by the sight of Thomas's bare arms for the first time that night.

“You were right,” the other boy said as he tossed the shirt over his shoulder. “That flannel was a little too hot.”

Minho licked his suddenly dry lips before saying, “You should listen to me more often as I’m usually right.”

Thomas chuckled as he flipped to the next page of the test. “I'll keep that in mind.”

The next set of questions were more difficult and Minho was so focused on getting the answers right that he completely forgot about the prizes Thomas had promised him.

That is, until he got the next 10 questions right and Thomas dropped the test back onto his bed. He reached for the hem of the band t-shirt he was wearing while saying, “Have you figured it out yet?” And then he was pulling the shirt over his head, leaving him in nothing but a tight white undershirt that left little to the imagination.

“Ugh,” Minho's voice came out in a croak. And then it clicked. The sweatshirt, the flannel, and now the t-shirt. “Oh my god! You're stripping when I get the answers right!”

Thomas just grinned, wicked glint in his eyes as he picked the test back up, muscles that Minho had never had the opportunity to see before flexing with the movement. He started in on the next set of questions, and they were definitely harder. But knowing what his next prize would be, Minho focused on the answers and, once again, got them all correct.

Thomas once more set down the test papers and reached for the hem of his undershirt and Minho licked his lips in anticipation. Thomas smirked at his reaction before pulling the garment up and over his head. Minho nearly groaned at the sight before him.

Thomas was all lean muscles and pale skin dotted with moles. There was a small smattering of dark hair on his chest and more going from his navel down into the waistband of his jeans. He sat still for a moment, letting Minho take in the sight, smirking at what was surely a ridiculous look on his face. But Minho couldn't help it. He'd been fantasizing about this for months and he was damn well going to take advantage of the opportunity before him.

The sound of a throat clearing made Minho drag his eyes away from the waistband of Thomas's jeans were all he wanted to do was follow the trail of hair with his tongue. He managed to meet the other boy's gaze with some difficulty. Thomas's face was slightly flushed, probably from all the staring Minho was doing. But he just couldn't help himself.

“Uh,” Minho's voice cracked and he had to swallow several times before he trusted his voice to work again. “So, test. Testing. Practicing the test. Where were we?”

Thomas chuckled, an affection sound. “You've got 10 more questions. Think you can do it?”

Minho tried to keep his eyes fixed on Thomas's face and not on all that tantalizing flesh on display. “Honestly? I'm not so sure. I know you saved the hardest questions for last. And that,” he waved a hand in the general direction of Thomas's abs before continuing, “isn't going to help.”

Thomas leaned back on his hands, stretching his torso out, putting more of his lean frame on display. Minho did not whimper. He didn't. “Just think, Minho,” the other boy's voice dipped low, doing ridiculous things to Minho's self control. “Think about what your grand prize is going to be.” He smirked and Minho definitely whimpered.

“Alright, okay. Let's do this.” Minho released what he'd just said and all but yelled,”The test. Oh my god, let's just get back to the test. Fuck.”

Thomas laughed, head thrown back, his long, pale neck on display. And Minho was definitely screwed. No way would he be able to get these last 10 questions right, not with Thomas half naked, looking like the best walking fantasy he'd ever seen.

The other boy leaned forward again, elbows braced on his knees and test clenched between his hands. He asked the first question and Minho had to ask him to repeat it, too distracted by Thomas's flexed biceps. The question was definitely harder than any of the others and Minho had to turn away from Thomas to fully concentrate on the answer. He dug through his brain, pushing thoughts of Thomas aside and focusing on all the studying he'd done. He turned back to face Thomas when he he thought he had the right answer. And the right answer it was. Minho was rewarded with a pleased smile from Thomas.

The next 8 questions followed in the same fashion, with Minho sometimes having to ask Thomas to repeat what he'd asked. Surprisingly enough, Minho got them all right, mostly, he was sure, because he kept thinking about what would happen when he'd answered all the questions correctly.

The final question was, of course, the hardest question on the test and Minho found himself floundering. He closed his eyes, trying his damnedest to find the answer, sifting through all the material they'd covered. Nothing was coming to him. Finally he opened his eyes and heaved a defeated sigh.

“I don't know,” he said, voice small. He couldn't look at Thomas.

“Yes, Minho,” Thomas replied, voice full of conviction. “You do know it.”

“I tried,” Minho practically yelled. “I can't get it. I don't know it.”

Thomas huffed in annoyance and threw the papers on the ground. “You think you're the only one that wants this, Minho?” And that finally forced Minho to look at the other boy. He was sitting all the way on the edge of the bed, bare feet firmly planted on the floor, face determined. “Because you'd be sadly mistaken.”

“You can't just say things like that and expect me to focus on finding the right answer!” Minho shouted, annoyed that he couldn't get the answer, annoyed that he was loosing his chance at the one thing he'd been dreaming of for the last two and a half months.

“I said it because I know it'll motivate you to find the right answer,” Thomas said back forcefully. “The right answer that I know you know. Think back to the second time we met.”

“Ugh, fine,” Minho groaned, closing his eyes once more. The second time they met was when he'd decided he was going to focus on learning and not on Thomas. It was the same meeting when they'd both admitted to their mutual attraction. He thought back to what they'd been talking about right before Thomas had touched him for the first time and, just like that, he had it. He opened his eyes again and before he could doubt himself, Minho blurted the answer out.

Thomas breathed out a quiet, “Thank fuck,” before he launched himself off the bed and right into Minho's lap.

The chair creaked at their combined weight, but neither gave it much thought as their mouths finally crashed together in a heated kiss that was long overdue. Thomas was straddling Minho and they both groaned at the contact, mouths never breaking apart. Minho ran his tongue along the seem of Thomas's lips before the other boy opened up to deepen the kiss.

Minho licked into Thomas's mouth as he pulled him impossibly closer, running his hands along the smooth skin he'd been dying to touch for months. Thomas ground down against him and Minho groaned at the hardness he felt against him. They eventually had to part for breath, but Minho wasn't willing to not have his mouth on Thomas, so he began kissing down the other boys neck, sucking and nipping just to hear the delicious noises Thomas was making.

Thomas finally grabbed Minho's hair and pulled his head back so they were looking into each others eyes. They were both panting and Thomas said, voice breathy, “I knew you could do it.” And then he ground against Minho again.

“Oh god,” Minho moaned, pulling Thomas back down for another searing kiss. He ran his hands down the other boys back before dipping below the waist band of his jeans, kneading the soft flesh of the ass he'd been caught staring at more than once.

Thomas groaned and pulled away to kiss at Minho's jawline. Minho gasped for breath as he pushed up against the other boy, their jeans creating friction that just wasn't enough. “I wouldn't say your methods were exactly honorable,” Minho managed to get out.

Thomas laughed against Minho's neck, sending shivers down his spine, before lifting his head and meeting Minho's eyes once more. “Worked, didn't it?” he said, kiss swollen lips smirking down at him.

And that's when Minho realized he was completely gone on this gorgeous, smart, snarky, wonderful person in his lap. He shuddered at the thought and dropped his forehead to Thomas's collarbone. “You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he muttered against warm skin. He felt Thomas tremble against him before his quiet voice said in his ear, “You're wearing entirely too many clothes.”

Minho chuckled as he stood up, Thomas's legs wrapping around his waist, and walked them over to the bed. He lowered Thomas onto the bed and hovered over him, arms braced on either side of his head. He studied the boy below him, the flushed cheeks, swollen lips, sparkling eyes, the moles he would definitely be tracing with his tongue at some later point, and said, “God, you're so gorgeous.”

Thomas's face turned redder, but he grinned and said, “You're such a sap,” before hooking his legs back around Minho's waist and bringing him down for another kiss. He ran his hands up under Minho's t-shirt, warms hands mapping out his stomach and chest. Thomas tried to hike the shirt up higher and Minho laughed against his lips. He pulled away just enough to whisper, “If you want my shirt off, we actually need to stop kissing.”

“Ugh, fine,” Thomas whined. “Just get the damn thing off.”

Minho laughed again as he sat up and pulled the offending garment off, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder. He let Thomas drink in the site of him before he leaned back down to kiss him again. But Thomas stopped him, placing both hands on his chest. “Pants,” he rasped out. “Your pants should definitely come off as well.”

Minho felt himself getting harder and the suggestion as he quickly scrambled off the bed. He undid his jeans and was stepping out of them in record time. He turned back to the bed to see Thomas undoing his own jeans and struggling to shimmy out of them. Minho chuckled as he stepped forward and helped Thomas tug them off. He dropped the pants in a pile on the ground next to his own before climbing back onto the bed.

He settled himself over Thomas, trying to hold most of his weight off the boy below him as they continued kissing. But Thomas was having none of it. He hooked a leg around Minho's waist and a hand around the back of his neck and pulled the him down flush against him. Thomas huffed out a breath as Minho's full weight settled on him, but that didn’t deter him from continuing to kiss Minho as if his life depended on it. The feeling of skin on skin was delicious and Minho was painfully hard, already leaking into his briefs. He could feel Thomas's answering hardness and he knew that there was no way either of them were going to last long. They'd waited too long for this.

Minho managed to pull his mouth away from Thomas's and began sucking on his neck, right below his jaw, knowing he'd leave a mark and not caring. He wanted everyone to know that Thomas was taken, that Thomas was his. The other boy seemed to agree with the sentiment as he moaned, rubbing up against Minho, nails raking down his back.

“More, Minho,” Thomas all but whimpered. “Fuck, I just need-”

Minho cut him off with another kiss as he lifted himself up just enough to get a hand between them. He managed to push his briefs down enough to free his aching cock, not once letting his mouth leave Thomas's. The other boy whimpered into the kiss when Minho reached into his boxers and ran a hand up his length. Thomas moved a hand down to push his boxers down, allowing Minho more room to work.

Minho gave Thomas's cock a few experimental tugs and was delighted when the other boy thrust into his hand, broke the kiss and gasped, “Jesus, Min.” Hearing his name like that made Minho groan, dropping his head onto Thomas's chest.

“Fuck,” Minho hissed as he finally brought their cocks together in one of his large hands. They were both leaking, which made it easier for Minho to work his hand over their lengths. Thomas groaned while thrusting up against his hand, seeking more friction.

“Shit, Min,” Thomas breathed. “Just, faster, please.”

Minho complied, speeding up his rhythm. His breathing was ragged as Thomas grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him up for a kiss. It was sloppy and perfect as they were both breathing hard. Minho knew he was close, could feel it building in his spine. His movements became jerky, he gave them several more jerks and then he was coming, hot and sticky over his hand. He moaned against Thomas's mouth as he saw stars. He had just enough presence of mind to pump Thomas's cock several more times until the other boy came with a groan, spurting against his stomach.

Minho collapsed on Thomas, come sticky between them. But he didn't care. He as sated and content, laying with the boy he was fairly certain he loved. Thomas hummed in pleasure as he ran his hands up Minho's back and into his hair, nuzzling up against his jaw. “Worth the wait?” he whispered into Minho's ear.

He lifted his head with some difficulty, Thomas's hand fell to cup his cheek as he stared down at him. “Most definitely,” Minho answered, smiling wide, before leaning down to capture the other boy's lips in a sweet kiss. And then he pulled back and chuckled.

“What's so funny?” Thomas asked, smiling lighting his features.

“Maybe next time we can actually get fully naked.”

Thomas laughed as Minho sat up and pulled his briefs all the way off. He used them to clean his hand and stomach off. He turned and helped Thomas wiggle out of his boxers then used them to wipe the cooling come of his abs. Minho threw the underwear somewhere on the floor then manhandled Thomas under the covers of the bed. He got up and turned the light off before crawling in behind Thomas.

Minho wrapped an arm around the other boys waist and pulled him close. Thomas sighed in contentment. “Definitely worth it,” Minho said again as he placed a kiss to the back of Thomas's neck. Thomas hummed in agreement as they both drifted off to sleep.

~

The next morning, Minho finished his final and stepped out of the classroom to find Thomas waiting for him in the hallway.

“So how'd it go?” Thomas asked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

“Oh, you know,” Minho said, stepping closer. “I got an 'A'. No big deal or anything.”

“Wonder how you managed that,” the other boy replied, looking thoughtful.

Minho grinned as he stood toe to toe with Thomas and placed his hands on the wall on either side of the other boy's head. “Well, see. I had this amazing tutor.”

“Yeah?” Thomas's smile was bright, infectious.

“Yeah,” Minho said before leaning in and kissing Thomas.

Hands wound into his hair, pulling him closer and Minho smiled against soft lips, ecstatic that he could have this, that Thomas was his and he was Thomas's.


End file.
